When the Press is Involved
by clautchy
Summary: The newspaper publishes a story to the public announcing his strange behaviours with his doppelganger and The Once-ler decides punishment is necessary.


_**BILLIONARE CEO TAKES PHRASE 'GO F*CK YOURSELF' LITERALLY**_

_The sudden success and charming CEO, 'The Once-ler', creator of the revolutionary product 'Thneed', has been accused of what could only be described as public masturbation in its finest. The CEO has denied all these claims, made from a range of public figures including the Minister of Foreign Affairs, executive producers, distributers and even the Mayor himself after a certain incident in a confidential meeting._

_The information given to the press is confidential, and unfortunately we unable to detail the complete incident. However, it is claimed that the Once-ler has an exact doppelganger of himself, their attributes completely identical, even their voice. _

_A controversial relationship between the two 'Once-lers' has been rumoured throughout the company and it is quite obvious that the Once-ler is not willing to have this information shared to the public._

_What else could this man be hiding? Underneath that dazzling smile and unforgettable suit of green, could a line of tricks and lies hide within his own home? More details to come when the Once-ler reveals more about his replicate. _

The Once-ler gritted his teeth together, fuming, as he scrunched the newspaper into a big ball and threw it across the room.

_Public masturbation?_ He thought angrily, _What the fuck do they think I'm doing? Jacking myself off in the middle of the street?_

No, he hadn't, in case you were wondering. In fact, although he was unaware, what had been witnessed was probably much worse than a good wank. But the Once-ler didn't care about his own morals. He cared about what the public thought; what the press released. How _dare_ they? How dare they reveal to the public his personal life? Couldn't a man have some Goddamned privacy?

Usually, if any controversial news related back to him, the press would ask his permission. If he didn't like what they wanted to sell, he would bride them to keep quiet with a large sum of money, money that probably should have been donated to a charity in need. Not that the press cared. Money made the world happy, he knew it to be the truth.

His grand chair's feet scratched the wooden floorboards as he pushed it back to stand up from his office desk. He didn't care. He walked over to the double doors and pushed them open with both of his hands; the large doors alerting Brett and Chet who were almost about to doze off standing until the interruption. They straightened their backs at once when they saw their older brother storm past angrily, turning their heads to the side simultaneously as they watched him stalk down the long corridor. They wanted to pipe up, ask their brother if everything was okay. Of course they hadn't read the news – they were much too simple-minded for that. They didn't know.

The Once-ler passed his secretary, who managed to slip in a questioning glance as he passed her, and he ignored her almost completely. He knew she was looking, _judging, _but he would not dare to show her a sign that he cared about her opinion. _He_ was The Once-ler, in charge and in control. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted and shouldn't have his actions questioned.

The man finally made it back to his bedroom, the source of his problem curled up underneath the thick duvet like the lazy bitch he was. There was The Once-ler, constantly drowning in paperwork and called into corporate meetings every couple of days, and his own personal item of keeping was treating himself with luxuries like sleeping in and knitting and baking and jamming.

The Once-ler growled and kicked the mattress , making the bed frame jerk violently. The sleeping beauty stayed asleep. Of course he would; he slept like a log. It would take a trip down a waterfall to wake him – _oh wait_.

Unfortunately, The Once-ler was far too impatient to wait for his now tabloid masturbating buddy to wake naturally. He snatched at the duvet and in a swift move threw it off the bed, letting it rest in a messy heap at the bottom of the mattress. The boy would have been naked if not for the heart-patterned boxers that hid his pride and joy. He still did not wake, only tucking his legs into his chest, like he was attempting to accumulate his own body heat.

This was getting ridiculous. He leaned down and seized the shivering pile of long limbs by a chunk of dark hair, pulling his hand up sharply, "Wake the fuck up," he ordered.

The boy yelped as his eyes wrenched themselves open in surprise and the pain of having hairs plucked from his scalp, "Leggo!" he squawked, flailing his stupidly long limbs pathetically, not achieving anything by his response.

The Once-ler only rolled his eyes and loosened his grip on the boy's hair with a sudden release, resulting in the boy to fall down onto the mattress, "Oomph!" he sat up slowly, rubbing his sore scalp, "Watcha do thatta for?" he complained irritably.

"Read the newspaper yet?" The Once-ler asked him, his tone serious and eyes narrowed. This was not a light matter.

The boy frowned, rubbing the back of his bruised neck in confusion, "No?"

"They know," the Once-ler stated, "They know about us. I've been getting my ass kicked all morning because of it. And," his nostrils flared, "do you know whose fault it is?"

Oncie looked to the ground, "M-me?" he guessed quietly. He wanted to make a smart-ass comment, be witty, but he knew that it would only aggravate his future self and he was afraid of making him angry.

"Yes. _You_," he seethed, "Because if you remember correctly, you _fucking coughed_ and then people thought, 'oh, who coughed? Someone must be under the table!' and obviously they would _fucking look_ and you're there_ in my fucking legs sucking me off_," his voice continued to raise itself until he was plainly shouting, "Do you know what that does to the company? People want a charming good-looker who's a nice guy, and that boosts sales! They don't want _this_!" he gestured to Oncie's whole body. Oncie was scared.

"I'm sorry!" he blubbered, "B-but you make me do th-that sorta stuff!" tears streamed down his eyes, terrified of what The Once-ler would do to him. Ever since he had appeared and taken over his life, Oncie found himself turning into a defenceless shadow of his former self, unable to do anything about The Once-ler. The Once-ler forced him into involving himself with many acts that Oncie would never have wanted to perform. Then he'd starve him for days, and then he'd hurt and hit him, then finally would he realise that it wasn't good for Oncie's help and he'd spoil him with food and luxuries.

"Sorry?" he bellowed, "Sorry doesn't fucking cut it!" he raised his hand then brought it down across Oncie's face, leaving a dark red mark on his cheek. He became quiet immediately, refraining from the temptation to cry out. It would only make matters worse. With wide eyes he stared at his older version with shock and fear. The Once-ler only scowled, "Looks like you won't be getting your bed privileges anymore. Or any food," with that he grabbed Oncie and took off, dragging him by his arm along the floor.

Oncie screamed and writhed around, trying to escape from his now persecutor but without any luck. He was so afraid.

The Once-ler kicked him into a very empty, very hostile and wooden room. Its contents were bare beside the one plastic table that sat in the corner of the musty room doing nothing more than collecting dust. Oncie gulped. He knew this room and it was not a fond memory. He was hoping he never had to return to this place.

Cold and shaking, The Once-ler threw him carelessly onto the ground, Oncie's cheekbone knocking against the floorboards with a force that would probably bruise. He whimpered, scampering across the dusty floor to the other side of the room but he wasn't quick enough.

Velvet hands latched themselves onto his shoulders and he lurched back, spine slamming into the floor. He shrieked but something soft and pink was stuffed into his mouth. _It has many uses..._ He thrashed about his limbs but The Once-ler wasn't interested in his younger self's arms or legs. No, he was interested in what lied underneath those heart-patterned boxers.

He nipped the younger's inner thighs, his sharp teeth piercing the fragile skin that was beginning to stretch over his bones. Oncie let out a small sob, shivering uncontrollably at the sharp pains in his bleeding thighs. He hadn't been hurt like this for so long. He had almost believed that his older doppelganger had finally realised that what he was inflicting did not help the both of them.

But his doppelganger was probably psychotic, and hurting his younger self made him feel better, _stronger_. He was so in denial he couldn't always accept the existence of his younger self, nor allow himself to believe that he loved him.

With a low, reverberating growl, The Once-ler made a trail of kisses up Oncie's thighs until he found sanctuary within those legs. Flicking out his tongue onto the tip of the boy's cock, he simultaneously slipped off those trademark money-green gloves and fished for something in his coat pocket. Working his tongue along the muscle, he found a small bottle and applied the substance to his fingers.

Oncie craned his head to the side, trying to get a good look of what his tormentor was up to. His cheeks were damp with tears and his eyes bloodshot, making his skin only look much more blotchy and red than it was.

It didn't take long for the boy to shriek, scraping his nails into the floor as multiple fingers entered his backside and teeth pressed into his erect dick. He whined unhappily, "St-stop," he pleaded through moans.

His dick felt suddenly cold as wet saliva dripped off the pulsating member and The Once-ler's mouth gave his front a short break, "_Stop?_" The Once-ler questioned, puzzled even, "Why should I?" he jerked his fingers harshly, pushing them in further than she should have been allowed to go, "Baby," he cooed, his eyes flaring with danger underneath the sparkling blue bug-eyed shades, "You made a mistake."

With that, The Once-ler's mouth returned to the boy's crotch. Oncie bit down on his tongue to suppress his outbursts. He wasn't going to satisfy The Once-ler. Not this time.

Or so he thought so, for a total of three seconds. A fourth finger entered its way into his orifice and another hand stroked his scrotum gently while lips were advancing towards the base of his dick and a tongue licked the precum playfully, both teasing and arousing.

Oncie cried out in unwanted pleasure, bucking his hips so his dick only slipped more and more into The Once-ler's mouth. But this couldn't go on for too long; after all this was simply foreplay. The Once-ler still had his own pleasure to attend to.

Pulling his fingers out and wiping the back of his hand along his lips that dripped with a sticky fluid, he zipped down his fly and pushed his pants down just low enough to expose his own crotch. He licked his lips, staring down at the bleeding legs and the pulsating dick, ignoring the less attractive face that Oncie currently wore. He knew what he was going to do, and nothing was going to stop him.

Grabbing Oncie's sides, he flipped him over and applied more lubricant onto his own dick. Oncie struggled and twisted and turned, trying to get away but The Once-ler only slammed into him, sliding in as far as he could. Oncie's hipbones knocked the hard floor, his erection being pressed the wrong way as it cramped itself every time The Once-ler thrust into him.

"How does that feel, _huh_?" The Once-ler murmured with tension, his pelvic bone aching from the force of hitting Oncie's bony ass, "Does it _hurt_?" he drawled out, leaning down into Oncie's ear. His tongue flicked itself out, this time at an ear rather than a dick and he bit on it gently. He drew no blood this time. It wasn't his intention, anyway.

Oncie shuddered, his moans lengthening and increasing in volume. The Once-ler knew he was close, so he helped, intensifying his hip movements and pressing his lips into the side of Oncie's neck. He poked his tongue out and made circles, sucking at the area while the lower halves of their bodies were a hot mess of sticky sweat.

The boy finally came, his batch staining the cold floorboards. The Once-ler let his dick linger inside of Oncie for those few more seconds, creating the unwanted pleasurable feeling, coming inside of him pleasingly. He pulled out and stood up without one word, zipping his pants back and picking up his gloves. He took a good look at Oncie who shivered on the sticky floor, bruises already beginning to form on his ass, neck and thighs. With the little strength that remained, Oncie managed to look up at The Once-ler with wide eyes.

_Why_.

No. He wouldn't feel guilty. Oncie deserved it. Shaking his head the once, he turned on his heels and left the room, locking the door behind him. He deserved it, he did. There was nothing wrong with what he did, absolutely not.

Now, he had hands to wash and a conference meeting to attend. He would greet them with his flashing smile and his charming voice. The press would be there and they would see what a wonderful person he was. They would see that they had made a mistake and there was nothing that could prove that he had done such horrendous things.

Nothing at all.


End file.
